The Caged Bird Sings
by psychemenace
Summary: One month, 6 months, 1 year, 3 years, Slaine has lost count of the number of months and years that have passed by since his capture. He realises how futile his life has become.


Slaine has lost count of the number of months and years that have passed by since his capture. Inaho Kazuki, comes by from time to time to monitor his activities. The man's consistent visits made him wonder about his intentions and constantly asks himself whether this surveillance of sorts was at the behest of Asseylum or to ensure he would rot in jail for his crimes. Over the span of three years, he is still yet to find an answer to this. But he got tired of thinking about it.

Slaine was completely satisfied with his current predicament if it was for the sake of his princess. Inaho has told him time and time again that she wanted him to live. But being imprisoned didn't feel like he was living at all. The days spent inside the correctional facility were dull and monotonous. Slowly but surely, he could feel his energy and all his life source sucked out of him. There was no difference. This was not how it meant to be alive. This was retribution for the crime of what? The crime of loyalty and devotion. Trapping him inside this cage like the bird Asseylum loves very much, Slaine couldn't help but think how ironic everything was.

Caged inside the iron bars that was almost completely engulfed by darkness, his mind was playing games with him all the time. He would often hear the imaginary flapping of wings and imagine a thousand feathers falling from the sky like snow. Slaine knows very well that his wings are cut off, clipped, his feet are tied, his hands shackled in place, and manacles chaff his skin forming lesions on his wrists and ankles. He is a flightless bird. While the others fly towards the heavens, the wind against them, sunlight on their skin, he was alone inside this cage waiting for something, anything at all, that would make him feel less than a mere prisoner. His past times include: gazing at the rays of the sun penetrating through the iron bars of his dingy cell, turning in bed, counting the days, the months, and the years that have passed. But despite it all, he is still positive, thinking that this was for the best. He tells himself that finally he can be at peace, finally he could belong somewhere. But there's something odd about this whole fiasco.

He pondered. Frustrated at the line of thought he conjured, he gave up. He threw a pebble against the wall, and another. One of the inmates complain, he doesn't move, his hand hang in the air. Slowly he allowed his arms to dangle at his side, he slumped on his hammock and draped his arms across his abdomen, heaving away his doubts and the confusion that maims his mind. But reality always struck him at the core. Staring at the ceiling, he was full of thoughts of how he doesn't really belong anywhere. It had always been like this. He was used to it, and it didn't really bother him that much any more. After countless disappointments and heart breaks, he stopped longing for a place where he could belong to. As darkness enclosed him in a protective embrace, he fended off those horrible thoughts by trying to sleep. But he couldn't. Ghosts, voices of the past still haunt him. The iron bars turn into tentacles that wrap around his limbs, on his neck choking him, killing him as it tightens its grip. But he hears a liberating sound. The hum and the manner of speech was familiar.

"Slaine..."

Saccharine sweet, the shrill of Lemrina's voice rang in his ears.

"Slaine.."

He was frustrated. In his effort to ward off this feeling, he clenched his eyes closed.

"Slaine-sama."

Now, it was Harklight's voice. Slaine's eyes widened at the thought of both. Beads of tears form at the corners of his eyes. Gripped by a strong emotion of disappointment , his heart throbbed. Images of what happened in the passed started to harass him. And with it, the disappointment that he felt for failing them; the people who believed in him when no one else did not. He was supposed to fight for something that he thought his Princess was going to approve of, but he was wrong. Weak as he was, he couldn't do anything against his Princess's will. This weakness became the seed of his destruction, of the destruction of the hopes and dreams of the people. His vision blurred as tears stream down his face. There were a lot of _what if's_ that he could think of, there were a lot of _almosts_ , and half finished things he ought to have finished. All his hard work became nothing, and he has nothing to blame but himself.

His thoughts were interrupted by the plopping sound of the raindrops falling in succession. It filled his ears. Then, as the slow and paced sound became desperate, it turned to a hiss. The cold wind entered the room, making Slaine shiver. He curled himself into a ball and then pulled the blanket over his head.

Inaho Kazuki was preparing to visit Slaine. The fact that Slaine was alive was confidential. Taking this into consideration, he deliberately woke up early to avoid being questioned by his sister. Deftly, he packed his things, took some of his notebooks containing important maintenance reviews and memos that he needed to deliver to the central UFE base and stuffed them inside his bag. His schedule was already set. After his visit to the correctional facility, he would go directly to the main base to check on the new fighting modules the UFE was constructing as well as to check some additional reports regarding the conflict that was stirring with the belligerent Counts of Vers that had occupied lands on the planet. Moreover, he was to give the notebooks and other documents to the Chief Commander personally.

The occupation by the Vers counts of Terran land have become a burgeoning problem ever since the armstice with Vers. The counts refuse to leave the land even after multiple memorandums from the Terran UFE government as well as from the Empress herself. Inaho and the others are afraid that this would open up to another bloody war. The civilians are also becoming a problem. Public opinion was strong against Vers. Frustrated at the complexity of the issue, Inaho shook his head. There were a lot things that still needed to be done. Even if they were able to prevent an all out war, the fighting still haven't ceased. Now, civilian groups were backing Anti-Vers rebels. It was getting out of hand that the United Governments can no longer turn a blind eye to the said issue.

Inaho's mind wandered at the terrible amount of work that was waiting for him after his visit. But his visits always gave him peace of mind. It was a responsibility he enjoyed doing. Imagining Slaine's despondent face, his lethargic demeanour, and dark circles under his eyes, he felt like he needed to rush. It was odd that the man even after three years would still refuse to speak to him. The thrill of the possibility of a response from him gives him something to look forward to despite his tight schedule. His work was monotonous as he regarded it, but Slaine makes it otherwise, that's why he will not exchange those visits for the world. Apart from this, another reason was: he felt a certain connection to the man. He believes that if the circumstances were different, they would have been great friends.

Inaho remembered that Slaine's hair was already very long the last time he saw him so he thought of bringing with him a pair of scissors specially made for cutting hair. He went to his room and searched for the scissors that he bought. He was meaning to cut Slaine's hair and shave his beard at his last visit but forgot to bring his equipment with him. He thought of him once again and remembered his promise with the Empress.

"Save him". She said, but truth be told, there was something odd in her voice, in the way she spoke it. He has replayed it over and over again in his mind. Plunging into the memory of it, her words echoed inside his head. It felt like he was wading in goo. The more he listens to her, the more confused he gets. He warded these thoughts away and went downstairs to gather up his remaining things. When he was about to go, his eyes caught a book on top of his desk. He walked towards it and checked it. It was a compilation of poems. He thought of Slaine and then decided to give the book to him. He was not much of a reader of poetry but it wouldn't hurt to try appeasing Slaine with it. After all, poems have something magical in them, he thought that one way or another it would cheer Slaine up.

Inaho gathered his things and went out of the house. It was a lovely morning, the sun perked up over the oceanic sky. The sky reminded him of Slaine's eyes, his magnetic blue-green orbs boring into him, digging deep into his soul. Those pearlescent vitreous eyes made an impression on him. It made him realise that there was something more to him than what the eye could see. The wind was cool and the trees swayed, their boughs and those little branches of theirs aquiver. He snapped out of his reverie and checked his car. When he was done, he manoeuvred himself into the driver's seat and drove off.

The journey towards the the correctional facility wasn't easy. There were a lot of checkpoints; it was tedious to go through. The portion where Slaine was being kept was the deepest part of the facility. It felt more like a dungeon than the conventional prison cells. Even though he is one of the high ranking officials in the UFE, he is still subject to security measures inside the facility. When he arrived after what felt like a thousand checkpoints and frisking he was accompanied by two guards to the meeting room where prisoner visits takes place. He waited for Slaine.

Slaine was anxious. He knows very well that sooner or later he would be forced to go to _that_ room for Inaho's visits. He clicked his tongue and furrowed his brows. He hated Inaho's visits more than anything else. A flapping noise coming from the high window of his cell interrupted his thoughts about the impending visit. He craned his neck and found a bird pecking on the iron bars as it was about to enter his cell. He whistled trying to get the bird to come to him. The Bird flicked its head towards his direction. It cooed and flew towards him. Flapping its wings, the bird prepared for a landing on his shoulder. Looking at the fowl closely, Slaine noticed that there was a note on the bird's left foot. His heart pounded inside his chest. He looked at the scrap of paper tied to the bird's foot quizzically. When the bird perched on his shoulder, he pet the head of the fowl while he took the piece of paper. After he unrolled it, he read:

 _"_ _The bird fights its way out of the egg. The egg is the world. Whoever wants to be born must destroy a world."_

Slaine trembled as his eyes followed the words that he was reading. The bird flew away, sensing his distraught. The blond looked at the window of his cell and wondered who could've sent the message. He swallowed a lump on his throat and read the note again.

 _"_ _The bird fights its way out of the egg. The egg is the world. Whoever wants to be born must destroy a world."_

The note was written in a neat script, the curlicues prominent and classy. Slaine thought he saw a similar writing before. He heard footsteps coming towards his cell and so immediately put the paper inside his mouth and swallowed it. He slumped back on his hammock and pretended to be asleep. The dangling of keys, the sound it makes as it coalesce with the iron bars and the final cadence that was the click of the lock was always the anthem of Inaho's visits. The creaking sound the steel door mades and the loud crisp domineering footsteps of the entering guards was his eulogy. Putting up with this everytime was like a time given before an execution. This too: the guards walking towards him, grabbing him by the tresses of his blond hair, pulling it and knocking him down. They always treat him this way, in fact, the prison guards always treated their prisoners like that; imposing their dominance, their power, accentuating the feeling of hopelessness, of inferiority among the prisoners. But there was a catch: when it comes to him, there were always cautious not to leave him bruises or abrasions on conspicuous places.

"Wake up! There's someone here to see you." Says the guard with his usual venom filled manner of speech, taunting, covered in grime.

Slaine learned that there was no use fighting back so he obediently stood up and handed his hands to the guards. They slipped the manacles on his wrist and dragged him toward the door. The journey towards the visiting chambers were always difficult. Slaine always felt like he was preparing for his execution before he arrives. The taunts and mocks of his fellow prisoners were also vexing. The sliding door opened and he is left inside to sit across Inaho. The chess board as always was already splayed for the both of them ; the pieces carefully lined.

"Slaine Troyard." Inaho uttered matter of factly.

Slaine looked up at him and fluttered his eyelids, his blue eyes were as cold and dead as ever, but today there was something menacing in its light.

Inaho took something out of his bag and placed it on the table. He pushed it towards Slaine.

"A little gift."

Slaine studied the book and sifted through its pages.

"The guards told me it was okay to leave you some books since you don't engage in any of the facilities activities. It would help you get rid of boredom".

Slaine mumbled something. The motion of his lips made Inaho's eyes shine. At least there was a response from him.

"The Counts are still being a huge problem. They refuse to give up the lands that they occupied. If this continues, we will be forced to use force against them and that will be a problem. It would threaten the armistice with Vers. The civilians are getting impatient, they are eager, intensely eager to eject…"

"You can't force them to leave. They will not head to your threats, they won't even listen to their own Empress. If it comes down to it, this will lead to another series of fighting."

It was the first time Slaine spoke, so there was a slight trembling and hesitation in his manner of speech as if he no longer knew how to pronounce the words; this was a result of not speaking for a long period of time. Inaho focused his eyes on Slaines slouched figure that was eyeing the book he brought for him. Inaho formed his hands in a steeple under his chin thoughtfully.

"You're right."

"This will turn into another bloody war. "

Inaho pondered at Slaine's words. He gazed at Slaine and studied his face, forgetting that he no longer has _that_ device on his left eye. Inaho checked his watch. It was only a matter of time before his visit was to end so he decided to start with what he came for. He took out his materials. Usually pointed objects aren't allowed inside but Inaho got permission to do so exclusively for cutting Slaine's hair. Just a glance at the instruments that he was taking out of his bag, Slaine knew what was coming. Inaho had always been his personal barber; cutting is hair and shaving his beard for him.

Inaho sauntered towards Slaine and reclined his seat. He covered Slaine with the cloth he carried with him, tying it on the back of the blond's neck. Astute as a barber, he took out the shaving cream and tapped it on the palm of his hand and pressed the tube. He dabbed the cream below Slaine's cheek bones, below his mouth and then spread it evenly. The cream frothed on Slaine's wan skin. As the coldness of material seeped into his skin, Slaine closed his eyes and let his thoughts wander.

 _"_ _The bird fights its way out of the egg. The egg is the world. Whoever wants to be born must destroy a world."_

The words echoed in Slaine's mind. It made him shiver inside, there was something in those words that was in sync with the cry of his soul. He screamed for freedom, he desired for it. To be able to fly away from this place and start anew, that was what he wanted. There was a storm that was brewing within himself that has accumulated over the years that he was caged. The note only accentuated his desire to disappear.

ooo

"Everything is ready your highness. The preparations for his escape are complete, we are now awaiting your orders."

A crescent of a smile formed on her lips. She waited for this day to come. All the years of planning and scheming has paid off, the war did not yet end. It was just the beginning. She stood up from her wheelchair and sauntered towards the centre of the room facing her messenger. The messenger bowed, his hand to his chest.

"Stand up Harklight, how many times have I told you that we are on even grounds now and yet you still insist on treating me as royalty."

"But your highness…"

Lemrina smiled sweetly.

"We've been preparing for this for a long time already, his freedom has a lot of implications to all of us, including this Oppressive Monarchy. You and I are not the same person as we were before. Is the aircraft ready yet?"

"Yes, we can leave immediately Lemrina-sama."

Lemrina followed Harklight, leaving her wheelchair behind.

ooo

The moon was bright and full. It dappled on the centre of Slaine's cell, illuminating the dark room a bit. Slaine stared at the ceiling and pondered about the note that he received from the bird. The book that Inaho gave him was lying on top of his chest. He sat up and walked towards the centre of the cell and sifted through the pages. A poem caught his attention.

 ** _Caged Bird by Maya Angelou_**

 _A free bird leaps_

 _on the back of the wind_

 _and floats downstream_

 _till the current ends_

 _and dips his wing_

 _in the orange sun rays_

 _and dares to claim the sky._

 _But a bird that stalks_

 _down his narrow cage_

 _can seldom see through_

 _his bars of rage_

 _his wings are clipped and_

 _his feet are tied_

 _so he opens his throat to sing._

 _The caged bird sings_

 _with a fearful trill_

 _of things unknown_

 _but longed for still_

 _and his tune is heard_

 _on the distant hill_

 _for the caged bird_

 _sings of freedom._

 _The free bird thinks of another breeze_

 _and the trade winds soft through the sighing trees_

 _and the fat worms waiting on a dawn bright lawn_

 _and he names the sky his own_

 _But a caged bird stands on the grave of dreams_

 _his shadow shouts on a nightmare scream_

 _his wings are clipped and his feet are tied_

 _so he opens his throat to sing._

 _The caged bird sings_

 _with a fearful trill_

 _of things unknown_

 _but longed for still_

 _and his tune is heard_

 _on the distant hill_

 _for the caged bird_

 _sings of freedom._

Slaine closed the book and clenched his fists. Tears started streaming down his face. He pounded the book as he muffled the sobs that were coming out of his lips. His hands trembled, he was heaving as he tried so hard to quiet down his sobs that were rising into a wail. Unlike the bird in the poem, he cannot sing and so he bows down his head and howls into the night like a wolf adoring the moon. The wolves howl with him and the birds sing with the moonlight tune. The cicadas screech as if comforting Slaine. The lull of the wind as the sounds of nature subsided calmed him down. When he took a deep breath, the ground where he was standing shook. Out of balance, he tried steading himself as he heard the wail of the grenade from afar, again making the earth shake. He scrambled to his feet and went towards the exit readying himself for whatever was coming. The screeching sound of teeth of the chainsaw blared, hurting his ears. Slowly but surely, a web formed at the centre of the back of his cell just below the window and then the cement fell down. Debris of cement fell inside and the more the wall crumbed, the more his cell was engulfed by a blinding light that hurt him. Slaine shielded his eyes. A siren was blasting in the distance, the sound of boots as it struck the ground hastily and the cacophony of screams, whirring, blasting and electronic sounds filled his ears. The sound of the engine seared through his ears. A giant robot reached over to him. Then, he saw her sauntering towards him. It was like a dream and he was at a loss for words.

"Hime…" He whispered.

"Lemrina-hime…"

Slaine smiled and opened his arms. Lemrina furrowed her eyebrows as emotions filled her to the brim. Biting her bottom lip, her body aquiver, she rushed to him with tears in her eyes. The embrace that they shared was the closest thing he had of how intimacy should be. Lemrina hugged him tight, and even cried as she pressed herself against his broad yet boyish chest. He pet her, and melted into her. When he looked up, He saw another figure on the inclined plane walking down towards them. At fist, he couldn't see his eyes because of the blinding light. But when he was able to see the man's face, his eyes widened with surprise at first, then delight.

"Harklight!"

"Slaine-sama…" Harklight smiled. It was clear in his face that he was trying to control himself. He was trying to hold all the pent up emotions he has for his master.

"We've come to take you away Slaine-sama."

At that moment, Slaine felt something warm in his chest. He was overwhelmed that he couldn't keep his tears from falling. The two persons he thought were gone were here before him, alive and well. Lemrina withdrew from their embrace and wiped her eyes.

"Let's go Slaine."

Slaine's blue eyes sparkled, he smiled and nodded.

The correctional facility was in tatters. It was left in a state of anarchy, the guards were desperately trying to control the situation. There were a lot of prisoners that were able to escape and because of that, Inaho rushed to where Slaine was being kept—afraid that something bad would happen to Slaine. When he arrived, the guards told him that Slain was missing. At that, Inaho immediately rushed towards Slaine's cell. What he found there was a huge hole, rubbles all over the place and a note.

 _"History is the lies of the victors."_

It was written in a fine script. Inaho crushed the paper in his hand and looked up at the sky thinking that maybe it was time for the flightless bird to finally spread its wings and learn to fly.


End file.
